


His King and His God

by Bittodeath



Series: Crack ships and rare ships [37]
Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Dom Loki, Erotica, Established Relationship, Handcuffs, Light BDSM, Love, M/M, Power Play, Praise Kink, Smut, Sub Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 05:05:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11776101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittodeath/pseuds/Bittodeath
Summary: Mmmh basically a light BDSM scene with Loki and Steve. I just wanted to write a BJ tbh.





	His King and His God

**Author's Note:**

> I shouldn't have watched Avengers again.

Loki smirked, his hand idly stroking the top of his golden helmet.

“Do you remember what I said when we first met?”  
“Yes.”  
“And do you remember what you answered?”  
“Yes.”

His hand paused, his eyes twinkling mischievously. Oh how dearly he loved that sight, yes.

“I’m going to say it again. Kneel before me.”

The man smiled, pressing his palms together and seemingly not caring about the magical handcuffs around his wrists.

“Not today”, he answered cheekily, and Loki could see the shiver running down his spine as he uttered the words. His smile grew larger.  
“I said: kneel.”

There was power in his voice – a power he never had before, a power he loved more than anything. He never knew he craved that kind of power, but now that he had it… he was never going to let it go.

The man dropped to his knees under the pressure of his voice, a shiver of anticipation rising the hair on the back of his head. Smooth, clear hair. Loki loved how those locks looked between his fingers.

He wasn’t wearing the blue, white and red his was known for – the Star-Spangled Banner. That was something they had agreed on: in this house, he was to wear Loki’s colours. And he wore them beautifully, that much was certain. Loki’s eyes trailed from his hair to his eyes, feeling the desire – the lust – hiding there, and then down to his perfectly shaved jaw. Down his strong neck, and broad shoulders. Naked torso, shining slightly where the sparse hairs caught the golden light. The line of his waist disappearing behind dark fabric. The bulge he could see there, between those deliciously strong thighs.

“Steve”, he called gently. “You said not today so long ago. I believe the day has arrived. Now be good, captain. And kneel for your king.”  
“Your wish”, Steve replied, his voice dropping enchantingly low, “is my command.”

He leaned closer, until he was kneeling between Loki’s parted legs, and the God did his best not to rush him. Those moments were rare enough to be very precious – the moments when Steve needed to let go of his duties, the moments when he allowed himself to be vulnerable. The moments when he was not Captain America, The First Avenger – the moments when he was just Steve, living to pleasure the King he now served willingly – the God he worshipped with everything he was.

His restrained hands rose to Loki’s crotch, slowly but precisely undoing the buckles. There was a softness in those hands, one that Loki saw only when they were on him. A tenderness in those eyes, he only saw when they were strained on him. Loki gently carded his fingers through Steve’s hair, ruffling it and savouring the low hum, almost like a purr, that came from the man.

He couldn’t contain his hiss, though, when the buckles fell open and exposed him to the cool air of the room. That didn’t last long, at least – Steve’s soft lips were already wrapping around him and making him hum low in his chest. There was always this feeling of forbidden when Steve took him like this – in a soft, wondrous worship Loki couldn’t even have dreamt of before. In the ruffled, untidy appearance of the Captain as he went down on his lover – a lover who was, for a moment, the highest authority he knew.

A groan tore through his throat as Steve took him deeper, so slow it was almost a torture – but the delicate roll of his tongue under him told him otherwise. His eyes were cloudy with desire – not just for sex, but for this feeling of powerlessness he knew with Loki. Loki tightened his grip in his hair, rubbing soothingly at his ears.

“You’ve become so good at this”, he praised the man in a tensed voice. “You were so quick and so willing to learn, and look at you know. Following my each and every order with the hope I might give you some scrape of that pleasure. Such a good little soldier, Steve.”

He distinctly heard him moan, the vibrations making his hips buck in pleasure. The change of pace was clear and brutal, the soft worshipping of lips and tongues turning to an aggressive search for more praise – and they both knew he’d get them. How could he not, when he was bobbing his head so enthusiastically? How could he not, when he dove so deep Loki could feel his throat tightening around him?

“You are so good, my brave little soldier. So, so good. So-”

His breath hitched, voice coming undone into a loud moan, as his orgasm hit him brutally. When he went back to his senses, Steve was looking at him expectantly, with stormy eyes full of a restrained pleasure, still in search of a praise. Loki undid the handcuffs around his wrists, grabbed his head and kissed him passionately.

“You are so good to me, Steve.” A pause. “And I love you.”


End file.
